It had been a long day, and Fitzwilliam Darcy was extremely tired.

Too tired to do much more than collapse on the sofa and pass a hand over his eyes.

Too tired to do much more than groan when his valet very respectfully informed him that Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were giving a ball tonight, didn't Master remember, and certainly Master was going to attend?

Too tired to do much more than slump wearily up off the couch and follow his valet, Leonard, upstairs to dress.

Too tired to do much more than nod blankly to Leonard's choice of cloak for him, because it was rather a cool night and besides, it perfectly matched the one Mistress was going to wear.

And then there was a soft knock on the door, and Mrs. Darcy entered the room, and suddenly, Fitzwilliam Darcy wasn't tired anymore.

You look splendid, my love.

Why, thank you, Mr. Darcy. So do you.

Down the stairs and out the door. To the coach; he helps her in. She sits down beside him.

Blue is a very fetching color for you, Mrs. Darcy.

You are too kind, sir. Do you also favor my earrings and bracelet?

I ought to, my dear; I chose them not two days ago.

She laughs, and suddenly the evening is almost sunny.

The coach rattles on. Conversation is scant, but perhaps it's because he's entirely too busy drinking her in. Those jewels sparkle so brightly, but not quite as brightly as her eyes.

What are you thinking of, Fitzwilliam?

Your eyes are brighter than any jewel I could ever gift you, precious.

That doesn't seem to stop you trying, though. You give me gifts almost every day. I feel I ought to reciprocate.

Seeing you enjoy them is gift enough to me.

She takes his hand, and he holds it with both of his own until they reach Simcliff, where Mr. and Mrs. Bingley live.

He helps her out of the coach and they go into the house, where he takes her elbow and escorts her into the ballroom, feeling the luckiest man alive. It's almost annoying to feel her leave him for a moment to fly across the room and embrace Jane.

Oh, my dearest Jane, it is so very good to see you!

Lizzy, you look radiant! And so happy! Oh, I have missed you so much!

He watches fondly, then goes to greet Bingley, who looks equally delighted to see him.

Darcy! I daresay you look a happier man every time I see you.

Yes, as do you. Married life must suit us both.

I must be the happiest man alive!

That cannot be while I live to contest you for the title.

They talk a while longer, and then mingle with the guests. Caroline greets him with utmost politeness; she is still unattached, but Bingley murmurs to him that she may not remain so for long. Mr. Hurst and Luisa are already dancing.

My dear Mrs. Darcy, will you honor me with your hand for the first dance?

Only the first? I feel, Mr. Darcy, that I ought to make you beg.

I shall do anything you wish, dearest Elizabeth.

And he gets down on one knee and bows his head, holding up one hand and trying to stop himself smiling. It would ruin the solemnity of the moment.

Fitzwilliam!

She's laughing as she takes his hand and allows him to get to his feet. She beams at him, and all is right with the world.

I feel we ought to dance.

Oh? Why?

He shakes his head, teasingly, and leads her down the row. She spins away, then back, then away again.

I declare I do not like this dance at all.

Whyever so?

You are constantly out of my arm's reach! This will never do. I shall tell Bingley to end this dance at once.

She smiles, and laughs.

Honestly, Mr. Darcy!

He gives her his best lost-puppy look, one he remembers Georgiana using years ago while petitioning for another cookie.

Fitzwilliam, are you trying to soften me?

It is my experience, my love, that there is not much in the world that will soften you.

And yet you try?

As I said, not much.

She gives his hand a covert squeeze, and he is suddenly very eager for the dance to end.

It ends at last, and they sit down with the Bingleys in the interlude. Caroline comes over to join them.

You appear to be enjoying yourself, Mrs. Darcy.

I am, thank you.

And dearest Jane, you and Charles truly set an example for the whole room.

Thank you, Caroline.

She runs out of things to say, and stares about the room for inspiration. Just then, the music begins again, and the dancers scramble back to their places.

I say, sir, you appear to be tiring.

I confess, Elizabeth, that I am indeed somewhat fatigued. It has been a long day.

I shall have Leonard make you some tea when we get back to Pemberley.

Are you not tired in the least, Mrs. Darcy? How can you have such an inexhaustible source of energy?

I am a country girl at heart, Mr. Darcy.

The dance ends quickly, and they go to sit down again, and the ball is over seemingly at once. They make their goodbyes, and as they are leaving, he confesses jokingly that perhaps he might fall asleep in the carriage.

If you wish, sir, I can stop you doing so.

Oh? I must hear this method.

I shall fall asleep first, and then you will not dare to snooze for fear of missing the opportunity to carry me out of the carriage.

He groans and puts a hand to his forehead.

Mrs. Darcy, you are not playing fairly!

No indeed, sir. But let us go home now. You must have your tea.